


A Wolf At the Door

by lilgulie5



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, F/M, Forbidden Love, Secret Relationship, Smut, Taboo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 18:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17146508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilgulie5/pseuds/lilgulie5
Summary: An AU in which Lord Alaric Stark does come to court during the anniversary celebration of King Jaehaerys, but for very different reasons. Under the guise of escorting his daughter Alarra to become a lady-in-waiting to Queen Alysanne he and the queen rekindle the secret relationship that began months before at Winterfell...for just one night.





	A Wolf At the Door

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LustOnMyFingers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LustOnMyFingers/gifts).



> I know what you're thinking..."BUT JAEHAERYS AND ALYSANNE!!!" I know, I know...and I ship them, too first and foremost. However, when I first read the sneak peek GRRM shared of Fire & Blood a few months ago featuring Alysanne and her trip North I just couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities. 
> 
> An important continuity note about dates...This fic is AU so I pushed the date of the anniversary tourney back to 59 AC. I believe it actually most likely happened in late 58 AC, but GRRM's timelines are really ambiguous at times. 
> 
> Anyway, this fic is a Christmas present to my dear friend and fellow Alysaric shipper, Sharon!

**59 AC**

 

“Your sons said you weren’t coming,” she said as she looked up at the man standing in her doorway.

 

“My sons were misinformed,” he replied in his thick Northern accent.

 

“But you did not travel with them.”

 

“No.”

 

“You did not come for the tourney.”

 

“No. When I fight a man on the field of battle, I don’t like for him to know what I’m capable of.”

 

She smiled at that. _So blunt and logical,_ she thought as she stood from her vanity to walk over to where he was standing. Alaric Stark was a tall man, an imposing figure to be sure. Had the queen not made his acquaintance the previous year, she might have been wary of him, but Alysanne knew that this wolf’s bark was worse than his bite.

 

“Why are you here, Lord Stark?”

 

“I wanted to personally escort my daughter to join your service as your lady-in-waiting.”

 

“Oh,” she replied, sounding more disappointed than she meant to.

 

“Does that not please you? At Winterfell I thought we discussed-.”

 

“No, no,” Alysanne waived her hand. “It pleases me very much. Alarra is such a sweet girl. So unlike her father.”

 

“I would take offense to that...if it wasn’t true.”

 

The icy veneer cracked and Lord Alaric Stark offered his queen a rare smile. It was good to see him again. Alysanne was not sure why she had a particular _fondness_ for this flinty Northerner. He was so unlike the men she was surrounded with, so unlike her husband. When she had flown North upon Silverwing she had been warned by Lord Manderly that Lord Stark was a hard and unyielding man. Perhaps it was the fact that she had to earn his respect that made it all the more precious when it was gained. Over time she found him to be a fair man with a sharp mind and a father devoted to his children. He was older than she was, but his hair and beard were still dark and the only lines that marred his face here scars he received as a boy.

 

“It is good to see you, Alaric,” she said. “Can I offer you a drink? I’m afraid I have none of the heavy ales you’re so fond of in the North.”

 

“If I recall, you became fond of them as well, Your Grace.”

 

“Alysanne, please. Do I need to remind you?”

 

“Perhaps,” he nodded, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “What’ve you got? Wine, I suppose?”

 

“A dry red from the Arbor.”

 

“I’ll have it if you’re offering it.”

 

“Have a seat,” Alysanne replied, motioning towards one of the chairs next to the hearth. She poured a glass of wine for each of them and handed one to him before taking the seat opposite his.

 

“You’re alone tonight,” Alaric observed and she was unsure of whether it was meant to be a question or not.

 

“I am. As I often am on nights like this. When there is an influx of subjects at our court, I find it best not to vie for the King’s attention. Everyone seems to have an _important matter_ to discuss with him. I usually take such opportunities to spend the evening with my children, but they’re already in bed. The long day’s excitement wore them out.”

 

“Your children are well? How old are they now?”

 

“They are,” she smiled after taking a sip. “Baelon will be two soon, Amon is three going on four, and my daughter Daenerys is five.”

 

“You look well, Alysanne.”

 

She felt the blush as it bloomed across her cheeks and spread down her neck and chest when he called her by name. Perhaps in the fire’s glow he would not notice. She was unsure if it was his accent or just his way or speaking, but it always sounded soft, the ending of it as if he were saying the word _sun_.

 

Alaric grinned into his cup as he noted her reaction and took a swig. The wine was not half bad and he had half a mind to ask for another glass. He meant what he said, the queen look well indeed. It seemed longer than a handful of months since she and the king had left the North, she on the back of her great beast, Silverwing. In truth he wished that the king had never come North. There were some things he could not forgive, but Alysanne had no part in them.

 

He remembered the first time he glimpsed her climbing down from her dragon. He had misjudged her, badly. Alaric saw a small, pretty little queen descend and had no idea what sort of cunning, intelligent, and witty woman lay beneath the surface. He learned quickly just how wrong he had been to judge her without really knowing her. He was contrary to her every suggestion, more out of habit than anything else. They were of the North, they did not need some southern Queen to make marriage alliances for him. It was a surprise when she was ready to parry each one of his blows, refusing to be thwarted by him. The longer the queen was at Winterfell, the less angry he was that the queen was sent instead of her husband, he was even grateful that the king was more delayed than was initially expected. He downright hated the feeling he got when she would walk into the hall each morning, fresh-faced and smiling, until he realized he did not hate it at all. What was more, his daughter took a keen liking to Alysanne. The queen liked to hunt, he soon discovered, and many a night he found her leafing through the pages of a book from the library.

 

“Why are you here, Alaric?” Alysanne asked as she ran her thumb over the lip of her cup. She could not bring herself to look up at him. Not just yet.

 

“I told you why,” he replied. Placing the cup on the table next to his chair he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

 

“Why are you really here? Your sons could have escorted Alarra.”

 

“Wanted to see you, Alys.”

 

 _Alys_ . It was then that she managed to look up at him. _The last time he called me that was..._ When she glanced up from her cup he was watching her with his intense grey eyes. Her clear blue orbs held his gaze for a brief moment before she pushed herself out of her chair and slowly walked towards him. Alaric sat up again when she set her cub down next to his and placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered.

 

“Tell me to leave.”

 

Her lips twitched and she drew away from him, walking over towards the door. Alaric half expected to see her open the door and hold it open for him, complete with a boot on the arse on his way out. Instead, he heard the lock turn over and when he looked over his shoulder he saw Alysanne standing with her back against the door. Rising to his feet, he settled his hand on the hilt of his sword and waited.

 

“I take it I’m stayin’?” he smirked.

 

“I didn’t lock the door on accident.”

 

When she was standing in front of him once more, Alysanne reached for the large buckle of his belt and unfastened it, allowing him to gently lean the sword on the chair behind him. His hands reached for her hips then, turning her around and lifting her honey-colored hair off of her back and neck and placing it in front of her shoulder. Ducking his head he pressed his lips to the base of her neck, causing a shiver to run down her spine while his fingers began to work on the laces of her gown until it pooled on the ground at her feet and she was left in nothing but her chemise. His breath caught in the back of his throat when she turned to face him again. Alaric felt his cock twitch and harden at the sight of the stiff peaks of her dusky rose nipples through the sheer material that attempted to veil her body from him.

 

A smile played upon her lips as she reached up and pulled him down by his collar and kissed him for the first time in months. He willingly returned her advances, grunting in response when she cupped him through his leather breeches.

 

“Tell me what you want, Alys,” Alaric said, his voice little more than a low rumble.

 

“I want you to take off these heavy Northern clothes and take me to bed.”

 

“Gladly, _my queen_.”

 

Without another word, Alaric lifted Alysanne into his strong arms, causing her to let out a squeal of laughter.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Takin’ you to bed, unless you’re protesting now.”

 

“Not at all. I just didn’t expect you to take it so...literally.”

 

“I’m a Northerner,” he reminded her. “We’re nothing if not forthright.”

 

He laid her down on the bed and hastily removed his doublet and shirt, kicking off his boots before climbing onto the bed next to her. Leaning down he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. He cupped her face in his large hand and kissed her with such gentleness he reserved only for her now. His kisses were warm as they moved over her skin, across her jaw and down her neck where he nipped and gently sucked on her pulse point. He loosed the tie on the low neckline of her chemise and pushed it down off her shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake until he revealed one of her pert breasts.

 

Alysanne swore he growled at the sight before him, but knew it was just a hum of satisfaction, something he was prone to do whenever something pleased him. He was a man of few words, but to those who paid close attention he gave small signs expressing his moods. She squirmed beneath his touch, shrugging the other side of her chemise down until it bunched at her waist. His hands covered her breasts, massaging and teasing them with his palm until her nipples pebbled into hard peaks. Dipping his head, he kissed the valley between her breasts, his beard tickling her as he moved to tease a nipple with his tongue. Sucking the bud between his lips, he gently grazed it with his teeth before releasing it and repeating his actions on her other breast.

 

She closed her eyes and threaded her fingers through his black hair as his lips found hers again and he lifted her enough to push the chemise over her waist. Parting her legs so he could kneel between them, she welcomed the weight of him as he hovered over her. Her hands slid between their bodies and made quick work of the ties on his breeches, using hands and her feet to shove them down onto his thighs, causing his laugh to rumble into her mouth.

 

“Eager?” he whispered against her cheek as she gripped his cock with one of her small hands.

 

“You’re the one with the hard cock,” she countered, arching an eyebrow at him until he dipped a finger between her folds and stroked her clit.

 

“You’re the one who’s wet, love. So fucking wet…”

 

“Alaric…”

 

His name had barely left her mouth when he held his cock by the base and eased into her warm and waiting cunt. He braced himself on his arms as he began to move steadily within her. If there was a heaven after this life, he prayed to the Old Gods that it felt half as good as it felt to be buried inside Alysanne and to hear the little sounds of sighs being caught in the back of her throat.

 

It felt like his hands were on every inch of her body, tempting and teasing her in the ways he knew she liked. She felt his calloused fingers graze along her thigh as he hiked her leg up higher, hooking his elbow under her knee to change the angle of his thrusts. The pace became frenzied and just when she thought she was about to reach her release he stopped moving altogether and Alysanne heard herself moan in protest and slap at his shoulder.

 

“Lazy,” she chided him, pinching the skin on the back of his forearm.

 

“I’ve ridden for _days_ , forgive me if I’m a bit tired, _Your Grace_.”

 

Alysanne _harumphed_ at his excuse and pushed at his shoulder hard enough to maneuver him onto his back so she could straddle his hips.

 

“Apologies, my lord,” she said sweetly as she flipped her hair away from her face. “How rude of me. You’ve come such a long way and I’ve been a mediocre host at best. Allow me to show you the hospitality you deserve.”

 

His eyes darkened with a mixture of lust and admiration as she sank down onto his cock, tilting her head back and biting her lip to stay quiet. She placed her hands on his torso to steady herself as she began to move up and down on his thick member. Alaric Stark was not used to relinquishing control of anything to anyone, but he found himself once again helpless in the face of his charming queen. He gladly acquiesced to her every whim, especially as she rolled and ground her hips against his.

 

His hands found her hips and began to guide her motions, helping her ride him as he bucked his hips up to meet hers. When a loud gasp escaped her lips he pushed himself up, enveloping her in his strong arms as he pressed his lips against hers. Alysanne was so close to the edge she felt delirious with pleasure and when she came she buried her face into his neck, her moans muffled as her walls fluttered around him. Alaric grunted but continued to pump inside her as he spilled his seed and nearly collapsed on the bed with her still on top of him.

 

Alysanne’s breath came in soft and fast puffs against his shoulder. She pressed a kiss there and moaned lightly when he pulled out of her and rolled them onto their side, his arms holding her close still. He placed a finger under her chin and lifted it just enough to join their lips together.

 

“Why did you _really_ come here, Alaric,” she asked again as she traced a finger over the fine dark hair that covered his chest.

 

“We parted without a proper goodbye.”

 

“Is that what this is?”

 

“I think it has to be,” he frowned, sweeping a thumb across her cheek. “But if you ever find yourself in the North again I wouldn’t close my door to you, Alys.”

 

“D’you know you’re the only person who calls me that?”

 

“Good.”

 

“When will you leave?”

 

“In the morning.”

 

She knew that would be his answer and still it made her heart sink to hear it.

 

“You’ll take care of my girl? See that she’s looked after?”

 

“Of course,” she vowed. “She will be in the best care. I’m so glad to have her here.”

 

“I should be gone.”

 

“I know…”

 

“Don’t pout like that now. Send me off with a smile.”

 

Alysanne forced a smile and kissed him one last time before he pulled away from her to dress. Within minutes he was buckling his belt around his waist and draped his cloak over his shoulder. Alaric pauses at the door, offering her a nod and a tight smile before he disappeared from her chamber as if he had never been there. Reaching over for the pillow he had lain on, Alysanne hugged it to herself, inhaling the scent of him that still clung to it as her eyes tried to find sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

**60 AC**

 

“Does Your Grace need anything else for the night?” one of her servants asked.

 

Alysanne was tired, bone weary to put it more accurately, but there was something she needed to do.

 

“Please bring me my lap desk, some parchment and a quill, as well as wax and my seal.”

 

“Can’t that wait for the morning?”

 

“I’m afraid not.”

 

The girl brought her everything she asked for and when she had dismissed her Alysanne picked up the quill, dipped it into the ink and began to write, hoping to find the right words.

 

_Alaric,_

 

_It is late at night as I write this letter- the hour of the wolf, I think- but I wanted to share my joy with you. On this day I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl whom I named Alyssa. Your daughter Alarra was at my side throughout the whole ordeal and I was so grateful for her steadfast support._

 

_Your Queen,_

_Alysanne_

 


End file.
